


The outback

by Herokittykat



Series: High Boom drabbles [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Death, Explosions, Its totally implied, M/M, Set before junkrat and Roadhog meet, Wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 04:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7252246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herokittykat/pseuds/Herokittykat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although McCree had denied the offer to hunt the junker countless times, he found himself in the irradiated continent of Australia. Although he denied all the offers, he found his curiosity piqued. What was it that these groups sought from the Junker? That is what he came to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The outback

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is based off a little prompt I got on my high boom blog. (Its-high-boom.tumblr.com)  
> The prompt was:   
> So, in the lore, it says that Junkrat was a target for bounty hunters. What if that is how Junkrat and McCree first meet? McCree is sent to kill him but is just not prepared for what he finds and doesn't get to killing him, for whatever reason.
> 
> This is also set before Junkrat and Roadhog meet.

After McCree left Blackwatch, he had gone into hiding for a couple years, laying low until it all blew over. When he finally reemerged as a gunslinger for hire, the cowboy found himself sought after by many groups as his talents were well known. McCree often ended up turning many of them down though, as he would only take on jobs that he believed were just. 

Despite this, the gunslinger found himself being offered the same task over and over again. Parties large and small had come to him in attempt to hire a bounty hunter to kill an australian junker known as “Junkrat”. Every time someone came to him with this offer, McCree would ask why they wanted the aussie. Every time he asked, he was given a vague, non informative answer. Every time he didn't get the answer he wanted, he declined. 

Although McCree had denied the offer to hunt the junker countless times, he found himself in the irradiated continent of Australia. Although he denied all the offers, he found his curiosity piqued. What was it that these groups sought from the Junker? That is what he came to find out.

 

From the scarce information he had obtained from all of the denied offers, McCree was somehow able to piece together enough information to find the mysterious junker. Before long, the cowboy found himself near a hidden bunker, the entrance surrounded by heaps of metal garbage. 

McCree wiped beads of sweat from his brow, the droplets seemed to evaporate as soon as they left the comforting shade of his hat. He slowly lifted the hatch to the bunker, the metal trap door letting out an irritated creak. McCree gave the hole only one glance before he made his way down the rickety ladder and onto the uneven dirt floors. The hallway ahead of him was narrow and provided little mobility if he were to be attacked. 

He walked slowly, his steps light and careful through the small passageway. Something was off though. The bunker wasn't nearly as guarded as he expected it to be. With so many people out to kill this guy, wouldn't one think there would be at least one line of defense? 

***Click***   
The small noise instantly put the gunslinger on edge. He knew that noise. Within a split second, McCree launched himself forwards, curled into a roll, and felt a warm burning sensation flame across his back. The cowboy let out a long string of curses as he grimaced in pain, hands reaching for his back as if touching the area would cause any sort of relief. 

“Who’s there?!” a raspy voice called, almost unheard above McCree’s ringing ears. 

The gunslinger forced himself to endure the pain as he reached a hand towards his Peacekeeper, eyes darting towards the source of the voice. That's when he saw him. McCree was expecting some scary Junker leader, not what he saw before him. Not a scrawny, stick thin, shitty postured, KID.

“Oim warnin’ ya!” The kid practically yelled, raising up an oddly shaped launcher towards McCree, “Take anotha’ step closer and I’ll blow ya to bits!”

McCree rolled his cigarette around in his mouth, raising both hands in the air. When he started to stand up, he felt a sharp pain rip through his back causing him to wince and fall back to the floor on his knees while the kid let out a laugh, “Them mines got ya good didn't they! I made them myself, I did!” 

McCree only grunted in response, glancing off to the side in embarrassment. It wasn't like him to get caught in such a simple trap, even more so one made by a kid.

“So cowboy, what‘re ya here for?” the kid questioned, eyes narrowing and cheshire smile growing wider.

“Now I don't want any trouble ‘ere,” McCree stated flatly, masking the pain in his voice.

“HAH! Sure ya don't! That's what the resta them said!” He scoffed, lowering his grenade launcher to his side and shifting his weight over to his non-pegleg, “They all just want a piece of what I found. Damn pricks.” The junker looked down to McCree again, “‘And I bet that's what yer ‘ere for too. Bet some damn suits hired ya to come kill me. Kill me and take the Omnium.”

McCree raised a brow at this, “Omnium? Is that what all of em are after? A damned robot?” the gunslinger clicked his tongue, beginning to slowly stand back up “What a waste of my time.”

“Wait… Yer not after me? Yer not one of them bounty hunters? Then why didn’t ya sa-” 

“Quiet down a minute,” McCree interrupted harshly, turning back around towards the tunnel he came from. Quiet muffled voices could barely be heard and then they were followed by the sound of an individual- no multiple people clambering down the ladder. 

“What is it, Cowboy?” the Junker asked in a not very quiet voice, crouching beside McCree. 

“Hush up a minute, can't you hear that?” McCree raised his voice slightly. The footsteps stopped. More muffled voices. The steps started coming closer and were heavier this time, faster. “Shit!” McCree hissed, quickly grabbing one of his flashbangs and chucking it down the hall. 

Junkrat quickly stood up when he saw the other launch the grenade down the corridor, wincing when he saw the bright light and heard the angry grunts of the others it affected. 

“Ya got another exit?” McCree asked, tugging on the junker’s arm.

Snapping out of his dazed state, Junkrat looked down at McCree and nodded. Without a single word, the junker grabbed McCree’s hand  and dragged the cowboy behind him. “Ya alroight mate?” the junker quickly asked, hearing a pained grunt from behind him. 

“Huh? Oh yeah ‘m fine,” McCree lied, “my back’s just a little singed is all.”

A look of worry flashed over Junkrat’s face for split second before he stopped moving, swooped McCree up in his scrawny arms, and continued running towards where his back exit was. 

“Wha- hu-” the gunslinger stammered, “Said I was fine! I don't need ya to carry me!” McCree felt embarrassment flush over him at the idea of being carried by someone who was probably 10 years younger than himself.

The junker laughed in response, “Don't tell a anarchist that his bombs didn’t hurt ya. You’ll hurt his feelings!” McCree only huffed in response, listening to the junkers uneven footsteps and the much heavier ones of their pursuers. 

Before too long the two found themselves baking back under the australian sunlight and hiding behind a pile of junk. Unfortunately, the other bounty hunters hadn't given up just yet. “Stay back cowboy,” Junkrat warned, giving a maniacal chuckle and reaching for the spiked tire on his back. The junker slammed it on the ground and ripped back the chain, causing the wheel to revv up and launch forward. “FIRE IN THE HOLE!” he cried out, eyes burning with excitement as distant curses rang out along with a large explosion. After a couple seconds of dead silence, he turned back to the gunslinger who sat on the ground behind him, “Well, that oughta take care of em!” 

“... Probably right.”

“So! How’s yer back? It was singed pretty good wasn't it. ‘Ere, turn round.” The junker placed a hand on McCree’s shoulder as the other turned around. Moving aside the red cloth that hung around the cowboy’s neck, Junkrat winced at what he saw. McCree’s armor was broken but managed to protect the uppermost area of his back well enough, but as for the lower half… “Well mate, looks like ya got yourself some pretty bad stuff ‘ere.. Sorry bout that. He he .. heh… “ Junkrat awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck and avoided eye contact with the gunslinger. “Uh.. I’ll be right back.” 

McCree watched over his shoulder as the junker rummaged through the piles of scrap and rubbish. When the blond came back, McCree raised a brow in suspicion. “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh this?” Junkrat held up the item in his hand, it was a tattered shirt riddled with dirt and tears, “Well bandages are pretty hard to come by so this is gonna have to make do. For now at least.” With that, Junkrat got to work, tearing the shirt with his teeth and wrapping it around McCree’s midsection. 

McCree took in a sharp breath as the junker wrapped the cloth around him. He bit his cigar, trying to avoid making any other pained noises. The blond seemed to take notice of this as he began trying to distract McCree. 

“So, I didn't catch yer name yet.”   
“It’s McCree, Jesse McCree.”

“Jesse huh, well I’m Jamison Fawkes, ya can just call me Junkrat though. Alroight?”

Mcree gave a small nod of acknowledgement, staying relatively quiet. 

“There! All done, mate! Now that wasn’t to bad wa-” 

“Get down!” Jesse quickly blurted out, pushing Junkrat to the ground. A bullet flew over them and embedded itself into the junk pile behind the two. McCree quickly drew his PeaceKeeper, twisted it around, took aim, and fired. He stared at the corpse for a second before taking a deep breath to steady his heart rate. 

Jamison lay beneath the gunslinger, slightly startled at the fact that he was almost just shot. He took a moment, blinking a couple times, and then letting out a bubble of laughter. “That was amazing!”

McCree moved off of the junker and sat beside him, giving him a glance, “Huh?”

“How’d ya know he was comin’? And back in the bunker too! Ya knew they were there before ya could even see ‘em!”

McCree raised a brow at this, “Ya got ears don't ya? If you listen close ‘nough you’ll hear their footsteps.”

“Huh…. Well.. Thanks I guess! If it wasn't for you I’d probably have had my head shot off!” Junkrat stood up, holding a hand out for McCree to take.

The gunslinger took it, hesitantly getting to his feet. The makeshift bandage didn't ease any of his pain, but it helped stop any of his bleeding. “Well, justice ain't gonna dispense itself.”

Junkrat chuckled at the cheezy line, “Hey I’ve got an idea, McCree. Ya seem pretty good with a gun and them bright grenades earlier, how ‘bout ya become my bodyguard! We can split my spoils, fifty fifty!  Hows that sound, mate?” Junkrat had a bright look in his eyes and a cheshire grin stretched across his face.

McCree shook his head, “Sorry Junkrat, being a bodyguard ain't my thing. Besides, I’m not suited for this place.”

The junkers smile was quickly replaced with a frown, followed by a shrug. “Well, no helpin’ it I guess,” he sighed and stretched his arms behind his head, “At least stay ‘ere for a bit. Can't travel with injuries like those can ya, cowboy?” Junkrat’s smile came back, this time smug.

The other let out a heavy sigh and looked up over the brim of his hat, a small smile on his face, “Can't say no to that can I?”

The only response McCree got was a bubble of laughter.


End file.
